


for the hope of it all

by downn_in_flames



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Album: folklore (Taylor Swift), Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Summer Romance, but there's also some illicit affairs and cardigan and betty references as well, i took the teenage love triangle storyline and am doing something a lil different with it, the official song inspo for this fic is august
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downn_in_flames/pseuds/downn_in_flames
Summary: You weren't mine to lose...He mumbles something in his sleep that sounds a lot like ‘I love you,’ and Lily realises with a horrible sinking feeling that he probably thinks she’s Betty in his dreams.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 165
Collections: James and Lily Fanfics





	1. july

The bell above the door at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary might as well be Lily's own personal augurey call, what with the way it foretells how she'll die a million little times that summer.

Because that bell serves to announce the arrival of none other than James Potter, all bright smiles and sparkling eyes and messy hair and tanned skin, tumbling through the wooden shop door as he has many times before so far this summer. While she's taken to working at the Apothecary as a summer gig, he's interning at his dad's business, and as such, is frequently sent out on potions supply runs.

But this late July afternoon is different.

"What can I help you with this time?" she asks, trying to calm her traitorous heart that insists on beating faster whenever he enters the room. "I'm afraid the lacewing flies are still on backorder, so if it's that - "

He interrupts her. "In a rare change of pace, I'm actually _not_ here for potions ingredients."

"Well that's about all we sell, so I'm not sure how I can help you with anything else."

He leans on the counter in front of her, reminding her just how much of a height difference exists between them now. It wasn't there a year ago, but he towers over her now. "Actually, you _can_ still help me," he tells her. "Sirius and I are planning a thing - a _party_ , if you will - this Saturday, and we'd love nothing more than for you to grace us with your presence."

She weighs the invitation in her mind for a moment. She doesn't work at the Apothecary most weekends, and her typical summer Saturday thus far has been spent holed up in her room trying to avoid her sister and her awful fiancé. So all in all, a party at the Potter house is a significant improvement on those plans.

"Sure, I'm in."

He flashes her a dazzling grin. "Excellent. We're starting at nine - dress code is whatever you want it to be."

And then he's out the door again, the tinkling bell of the entryway the only lingering evidence of his presence.

* * *

'Whatever you want it to be' is a horrible dress code, Lily has decided, as she throws yet another rejected outfit onto her bed. She's almost completely doomed to show up either overdressed or underdressed in comparison to everyone else, and she can't decide which is worse. She doesn't have the right attitude to play off being underdressed as the cool-girl-who-doesn't-care-about-her-appearance, nor does she have the confidence to be far fancier than everyone else there.

It would also help if she didn't keep judging every outfit of the standards of 'will James like it,' especially given that he has a girlfriend and probably doesn't give a flying fuck what she shows up in anyways.

Eventually, she settles for a white and red floral sundress and simple red heels - which feels like it could be the sweet spot. Not too fancy, not too casual, just enough to make her feel pretty without going overboard.

Her father doesn't really care much where she goes these days, so she only has to poke her head into his study and tell him she won't be coming home tonight before she leaves. Predictably, he doesn't ask any questions.

She Apparates to the Potter house - or perhaps more accurately, the Potter mansion, because 'house' seems too trivial a word for the monstrosity James grew up in - a few minutes after nine, the sun just on the verge of setting. The door swings open for her of its own accord, the magic already taught to recognise her from her other visits here over the years.

"Evans!" James says excitedly, popping into the foyer with a red plastic cup in his hand. From the pitch of his voice, it's clear that whatever he's drinking _isn't_ just butterbeer. "You made it!"

She makes her way towards him. "Yeah, well, I did say I was going to come, so - "

"It's still good to see you," he replies, giving her a one-armed hug when she gets up to him. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Depends," she replies loftily, eying his cup and trying not to think about the feel of his warm body pressed up against hers. "What type of drink is being offered?"

"Sirius mixed up something - he's calling it an Opaleye, because look," - he shows her the inside of his cup, which is halfway full of something faintly shimmering - "it sparkles!"

"If Sirius made it, I feel like I should be scared."

"You should be," the very person in question answers, grinning wickedly and presenting her with her very own cup.

"Hey now, _I_ was the one offering to get her a drink," James protests, but Lily's not paying much attention to him now - she's too busy greeting Sirius instead. Unlike James, who's been in the Apothecary at least once a week, she hasn't seen Sirius since the end of term.

"How's your summer been?" she asks him, taking the cup from him. She takes a sip, and discovers that it tastes faintly sweet, with no evidence that there's any alcohol whatsoever. Which, given Sirius' track record at Quidditch parties, means it's dangerous as hell.

"Boring as shit," he answers with a laugh. "Jamie boy is too busy working for his dad all the time, so I'm home alone all the time."

"He bought a fucking motorbike of all things to entertain himself with," James chimes in, apparently not wanting to leave them just yet. She shouldn't be pleased by that, but she is.

It's hilariously ironic, and exactly the sort of karma the universe clearly decided she deserves, that she started realising she might have some more-than-friendly feelings towards James almost _exactly_ at the same time as he started dating Betty.

Betty Bowery, the brilliant and artsy Ravenclaw who's so nice that Lily can't even properly dislike her, which is a horrible inconvenience, because at least holding a grudge against her for being an awful person would maybe help her feel better about the whole fancying-her-boyfriend thing.

But nope. The universe won't even give her that much.

The one consolation it decided to give her though is Betty's absence tonight. She knows from earlier conversations with James at the apothecary that his girlfriend is spending the whole summer in Spain. Her older sister lives there, apparently.

In fact, the whole party isn't quite as populous as Lily expected it would be; she's perhaps a bit too used to Quidditch parties, where pretty much everyone and their mother is on the guest list, so the fact that there are only about twenty people here tonight, all of whom she knows by name, is a bit of a departure from that.

She polishes off the first drink far too quickly, already feelings the effects of it thrumming through her veins as she laughs along to one of Mary McDonald's stories.

It doesn't help that James has been right by her side for most of the night, and his closeness is a different sort of intoxication, but equally as dizzying. He leans in to whisper a joke to her at one point, and the combination of the heat of his breath against her skin and his soft, low voice in her ear nearly makes her drop her drink.

 _Fuck_ , she's pathetic.

And also kind of horrible for being so mindlessly attracted to someone so completely unavailable.

"Anyone up for a game?" Sirius asks loudly, taking his role as the centre of attention once again.

"What do you have in mind?" Marlene replies, taking a long sip of her drink.

Sirius grins, almost conspiratorially. "A good old-fashioned round of Never Have I Ever. We've got a small enough group here for it, and I'm in the mood to hear some scandals and secrets."

"You act like we're all full of those - it's just you, mate," Remus replies.

"Mine are the only ones you _know of_ ," Sirius retorts, tipping his drink and sloshing a bit of it onto the floor. "That's the point - worm out all the stories we haven't heard yet."

"I'm game," James replies, and that's the end of the discussion. Once the two hosts are in on things, that's the whole decision made.

Everyone sits in a circle in the middle of the room - some people on couches or chairs, others on the floor. Lily's one such person on the ground, and James is right next to her, sprawling his long legs out on the floor in front of him, leaning his weight back onto his hands and observing the rest of the group as they all get into position.

"Ten fingers up, everyone," Sirius instructs, waggling his own fingers at them for demonstration purposes. "You know the rules - if you've done it, your finger goes down and you take a drink. And when you're out, bottom's up."

The game kicks off relatively tamely - no one wants to dive straight in with something wildly scandalous, so the first few rounds consist of innocent things like breaking curfew or snogging someone under the Quidditch stands.

Emmeline Vance is the first one to really make things interesting, with a 'never have I ever had sex at Hogwarts,' which gets more people than Lily would've expected.

Although, out of everyone, apparently _she's_ the most surprising on that one.

"Lily? _Damn,_ " Bertram Aubrey says, not bothering to conceal the shock from his voice.

"I was dating Corner for eight months," she replies simply, not wanting any more attention than he's already drawn to her.

Her relationship with Benjamin Corner had been complicated to say the least, especially so during the last few months, and sleeping with him had been a last-ditch effort of sorts to see if she could salvage what they had left. But sex hadn't been enough to make up for the fact that she just didn't see anything in him anymore.

(It had also been pretty awful sex, all things considered. Lily doesn't have a ton of experience to judge off of, but she's positive it's supposed to be better than _that_.)

"Evans doesn't owe you an explanation, Aubrey," James says, just a bit too loudly.

On one hand, Lily doesn't need him protecting her; on the other, she's kind of grateful for his defensiveness, because Bertram certainly won't be asking her any follow-up questions now.

Dorcas, who's sitting immediately to her left, speaks next, bringing everyone's focus back to the game.

"Never have I ever been in love."

Lily doesn't mean to look at James, but she does anyways, just in time to watch him put a finger down and bring his drink to his lips. That twists in her like a knife for some reason, but she tries not to let it show on her face. He's very happily in love with Betty, and that's great for him.

Absolutely, totally _great_.

"Lily?" She snaps her attention to Remus, horrified that she's been caught in the act of her miserable pining. A flush rises in her cheeks.

But if Remus _did_ actually notice anything, he doesn't show it. "It's your turn," he tells her simply.

"Oh." A wave of relief rushes over her, and she's so fully caught off guard that it takes her a moment to come up with something to use for the game. "Never have I ever been caught in a broom closet by a professor."

Both Marlene and Dorcas put a finger down, prompting an uproar of laughter and an insistent call of _'which professor!?'_

The raucous serves to distract Lily from her own wallowing and brings her back to the party. She's meant to be having fun, not thinking about the love life of some boy who won't ever be hers anyway.

* * *

The party is gradually dying down - Sirius is asleep on the couch and Peter's on the floor, and Marlene and Dorcas have retreated to a guest bedroom together. And yet, Lily's still wide awake, eyes wandering over everything, feeling somewhat detached from it all for some reason.

She looks across the room and her eyes land on James. Curiously enough, he's already looking at her. She averts her gaze immediately, but the glance still lasts long enough to bring to life a swarm of uninvited butterflies in her stomach.

"Come out to the garden with me."

She looks up to see James standing next to her, hand outstretched. Somehow, in her attempts to think about anything but him, she entirely missed him moving across the room to her. She blurts out a response without thinking about it. "Why?"

He cracks a grin at that. "Because the party in here is dead and it's much nicer out there."

She doesn't take his hand - she's not sure she fully trusts herself to not let go if she does that. _He has a girlfriend who he is very much in love with_ , she reminds herself, for what has to be the fiftieth time tonight.

But she does stand up and let him lead the way out of the massive house and into the backyard.

The garden of the Potter house is exactly like the rest of the place - immaculate and stunningly gorgeous. Most of the plants are magical, but not the sorts of plants in the Herbology greenhouses that are waiting to attack you or spray you with something the moment you turn your back to them. No, these are all glowing flowers or colour-changing fruits or trees with branches that twirl and dance in the warm summer air.

A set of sparkling yellow flowers cast a golden hue on James' profile, and she's so distracted by taking in the sight of him that she stops paying attention to where she's walking.

Her heel gets caught in between the cobblestones, and she nearly goes tumbling to the ground - if it weren't for the fact that she tumbles into James' arms instead.

"Alright, Evans?" he asks, a caring sort of warmth in his voice as he rights her.

Her brain short-circuits as a result. "I - yeah. Er, I'm alright. The stones are just a little… they don't exactly go well with heels, you know."

"I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it," he replies, moving to let go of her. But at the last moment, he hesitates, his warm hands still loosely resting on her shoulders.

Since the moment is just a little too perfect, it's only natural that her brain immediately has to sabotage it. "Betty's a lucky girl," she tells him, unable to completely keep the bitterness out of her tone.

She hopes James didn't pick up on it, and makes a mental note to hex Sirius something awful as retribution for getting her drunk enough that she's lost any sort of verbal filter she had left.

"Er, yeah, maybe," James says, somewhat bashfully. She's not sure he's ever taken a compliment so modestly before, and, in another time where she's not so completely mesmerised by the curve of his jaw in the moonlight, she would definitely give him shit for it.

And then the reason for his modesty comes out. "Betty and I on a break," he tells her. "For the summer, at least. She wanted to be free to do whatever with whoever in Spain and be able to mess around for the summer or whatever, so… yeah. Clearly, she's not _that_ lucky."

Lily frowns, trying to reconcile this new information with everything she knows about their relationship - and what she learned of it tonight. They've always seemed so happy together, and James all but admitted he's in love with her tonight, so the fact that they're just completely ignoring each other for the summer feels… strange.

James clearly doesn't want to talk about it any more than that, and he lets his hands fall from her shoulders, one landing back at his side and the other reaching up to mess with his hair.

She hates when he does that - although not for the same reason she used to. Now, it's too bloody distracting and makes her brain go all fuzzy around the edges.

But amidst the fog, one crystal-clear realisation hits her like lightning. James is, if only for a short while, functionally single again.

She's not sure what she wants to do with that information just yet, but it sets up permanent residence in her mind anyways.

"You look really beautiful in that dress tonight, by the way," he says, his words practically running together - not slurred, just jumbled. "Not that you don't look beautiful in other clothes, or on other nights, but I just - I've been thinking that all night and I couldn't really figure out how to tell you, but - "

And maybe she shouldn't do it, but she does it anyway. She closes the remaining space between them and kisses him.

His response is practically instantaneous, almost automatic, not even giving her a chance to second-guess whether or not she'd made a mistake. One hand wraps around her waist and pulls her close, while the other delicately cups her cheek. The contrast of the two - the rough and the tender - sends a flood of warmth throughout her entire body, and she deepens the kiss.

He kisses the same way he does everything else in life - fully and with reckless abandon. She's never given much thought to what kissing James would be like - the timing of her newfound attraction with his newfound relationship (not to mention that she herself was still dating Corner at the time) meant that any such fantasies were immediately suppressed - but she's sure that even if she _had_ tried to envision it, nothing in her wildest dreams could match up to the reality.

* * *

She wakes up the next morning twisted in bedsheets, completely disoriented, not recognising the unfamiliar space and _certainly_ not recognising the warm body wrapped around hers.

And then suddenly, all of it comes rushing back at once.

Regret knots in her stomach instantaneously - regardless of whether or not he's currently with his girlfriend, kissing James was a dangerous game. Now that she's done it once, she can't help but think about how much she wants to do it again. And again.

James hums contentedly, the arm wrapped around her waist holding her just a bit more firmly. And that regret starts to ebb away, because she can't find it in herself to truly believe anything about this was actually a bad idea. A foolish, drunk one, perhaps, but not _bad_.

Then a new thought takes root, replacing the regret with something different, something a bit like hope. Because she _can_ do it again. Maybe not forever, because James and Betty are only on a break and they'll be back together once school starts, but… maybe for August.

A summer fling.

She's never seen herself having anything permanent with James anyways, never seen her feelings for him as being anything more than a fleeting crush that she hasn't had a chance to properly work through. So what better way to get that out of her system than a few weeks of silly romance?

"Good morning," a rough voice says from beside her, and she turns her head to face James, who's looking at her, wearing an expression of vague amusement, one corner of his mouth turned upwards as he assesses her.

"Good morning," she echoes back at him, unable to fight off her answering smile as she thinks back to how it felt to be underneath him on this mattress last night, drunk off of something stronger than Sirius' Opaleyes as James kissed her again and again and again.

"Someone's going to come looking for you soon," he tells her, shaking her out of her fantasy. "I'm pretty sure everyone else ended up sleeping in the living room."

"Oh, yeah," she replies. She's not sure she wants Marlene's knowing looks or Mary's poorly-concealed giggles just yet; she's not sure she wants _anyone_ knowing about this, honestly. She's basically the other woman here, even if Betty and James have clearly defined their own rules around this break of theirs, and she doesn't want that title marring her relatively pristine reputation.

And so no matter how comfortable she is in James' bed, she quickly finds her way out of it.

"Lily, I - " She's not sure he's ever called her Lily before - at least, not that she can remember - and she can't help but think that she likes the way it rolls off his tongue. "I just - I don't want you to think I only snogged you last night because I was drunk or because I was missing Betty, I - "

She nods, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Yeah, I know," she interrupts. "Look, we don't have to put any meaning behind this. But it was fun, and… I don't know about you, but I could use a little more fun for the rest of the summer."

He sits up in bed, brow furrowed like he's not sure he heard her correctly. "What are you suggesting?"

She shrugs, checking her reflection in the mirror and making sure that her dress is on straight. "I don't know, honestly. I'm not looking to steal you from your girlfriend, but if you're up for something that isn't serious between now and September, you know where to find me."

Satisfied with how she's left things, she leaves his room and quickly sneaks out of the larger house without drawing any attention. And as soon as she gets past the Apparition wards, she goes back home to Cokesworth.

* * *

She doesn't hear from James at all for a few days. He doesn't drop in the Apothecary either, which isn't particularly unusual, but she can't help but want him to drop by even if he _doesn't_ need potions ingredients.

On the last night of July, she hears a knock on her bedroom window and jumps at the unexpected sound. It's louder than a traditional owl tap, and when she walks over the window, she's stunned to find James there, sitting on his broom.

"You asked me if I was up for some fun this summer," he says as soon as she gets the window open. "But the real question is, are _you_?"

"I already told you that I was," she answers, suddenly a bit self-conscious that she's only wearing a sports bra and a tiny pair of pajama shorts.

He grins, and the brightness of it sends her heart skittering in her chest. "Well then," he replies gesturing to his broom, "get on."


	2. august

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and i can see us twisted in bedsheets,  
> august sipped away like a bottle of wine

James becomes a frequent presence in her life after that, and she finds that pretty much every moment that she's not at the Apothecary is spent with him somehow. Sometimes they go out flying like they did that first night, James' body firmly pressed up against hers as he guides them through the sky, and other times they find themselves on the floor of her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling talking about their days until one of them can't take it any more and rolls on top of the other and initiates the snogging session.

That Friday, he sends her a note while she's at work, asking her to come over after her shift. His parents are away for the weekend, and Sirius is… well, James didn't get into the details, but the other boy won't be around either.

She feels excitement zip through her; she can't put a finger on it, but something about this feels decidedly different from them snogging on her bedroom floor, trying to keep relatively quiet so as not to attract the attention of her father or sister.

Sure enough, when she walks into the Potter house late in the day, having traded her Apothecary robes for shorts and a tank top, the whole space is filled with the warmth that only comes from extensive cooking, and Lily inhales a delightful mix of spices - none of which she can easily identify, but seem positively mouthwatering nonetheless.

"Evans!" she hears from the other room, and the sound of his voice instantly reminds her of the last time she'd walked into this foyer.

"Where are you?" she calls back, unsure where to go from her current location. It's all too easy to get lost in his house.

"Kitchen!" comes the reply. "Go down the hallway on the right and it's the second door on your left."

She follows his directions, landing herself in a spacious kitchen - at the center of which is James, who's both pulling a dish out of the oven and tasting something else with a spoon at the same time.

"What is this?" she asks, and subsequently realises that she's asked a very dumb question because it's _incredibly_ obvious what 'this' is.

She just… wasn't expecting it.

"I'm cooking you dinner," he answers, like this is somehow the most normal thing in the world for a teenage boy to do for a girl he's only been seeing for about a week.

And then, with everything in his hands now set down on the counter, he walks over and kisses her, and the process of reducing her to a pile of mush is complete.

"This is incredible," she tells him, and although she's talking about the dinner, she only has eyes for him.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a grin. "We'll see if you still feel that way after you taste it," he replies. "Although, I _am_ a pretty good cook, so - "

"And so humble too," she replies sarcastically, but the effect of it is diminished slightly by the fact that the smile on her face remains a persistent presence.

"We both know that's one of my greatest strengths," he retorts, and she's pretty sure he's about to kiss her again when they're interrupted by a timer going off.

"I'll get that," he says, his hand falling from where it had settled on her waist. "If you want to go across the hall to the dining room, I'll bring everything out for us."

She follows his directions, finding herself in yet another part of his house that she hasn't once been in before. The crystal chandelier above the massive table and the display of fine china along the back wall suggests this is a pretty formal room - hardly one she'd ever have reason to be in when she's come over in the past to hang out with all of their friends.

But whatever they're doing now is different; she's seeing parts of his life she hasn't before, parts that somehow feel more intimate, though she can't quite explain why.

The dinner tastes as wonderful as it smelled, and Lily finds herself amazed by the fact that she and James really never run out of things to talk about. Even despite spending every night for the past week in her room, the conversation still flows as smoothly as it did the first night.

(The fact that James also brought out a bottle of wine with the food probably helps too.)

Long after dinner is finished and the wine has been polished off, Lily feels happy and warm and satisfied, and full of a sudden sense of boldness brought on by the flush in James' cheeks and the way he's been leaning closer and closer to her all evening.

"You know," she starts, as coyly as she can, "I think it's a bit unfair that you've been in my bedroom multiple times and I don't even know what yours looks like."

He raises an eyebrow at that, and she spends half a second wondering if she'd been a bit too forward, but he quickly quashes that. "That _is_ unfair," he agrees solemnly. "We'll just have to fix that now, won't we? Would you like a grand tour of the whole house, or just the one stop?"

"If we're operating on the principle of fairness, you've _only_ seen my bedroom - it would hardly be fair for me to get to see your whole house."

He nods, and there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that does things to her.

"In that case," he replies, standing up and extending his hand to her, "I'm happy to lead the way on our very direct tour."

She takes it and lets him pull her up from her chair, and follows him through entirely too many hallways and staircases for one house, until he finally stops at the end of one of the halls and pushes the door open.

"Here you go," he says, gesturing to the space inside.

His bedroom isn't exactly what she's anticipated - for some reason, she'd always imagined that his room would be akin to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, covered in red and gold and Quidditch posters, floor littered with old essays and misplaced quills. The whole room is very blue instead, and surprisingly tidy, and Lily thinks about commenting on that, but decides against it when she remembers why she even wanted James to bring her up here in the first place.

She closes the space between them and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers.

He responds enthusiastically, and she doesn't realise that he's backed them up against the wall until her back bumps against it. His hands skim down her sides, gently at first, and then he grabs her hips and abruptly lifts her off the ground, which she takes as her cue to wrap her legs around his middle.

With his newfound leverage, James' lips drop to her neck. She gasps at the feel of his hot kisses against her skin, lighting a fire underneath her skin, and tangles her hands in his unruly hair.

Heady desire pools in her stomach, and she's overcome by an acute need to be even closer to him than she already is.

She tugs his hair a little, just enough to get him to lift his head up to look at her. "Clothes - off," she instructs breathlessly.

This is what this whole night was leading to, isn't it? There was never any ending to the evening that didn't bring them here.

He laughs a little at her demand, but sets her back down on the ground regardless before tugging his shirt over his head. She does the same with her tank top, and then James is pulling her back to his bed, simultaneously trying to kick his jeans off and pull her shorts down at the same time, and it's such a messy rush that she's not entirely sure how they manage the trek without tripping.

She hits the mattress first, and then he's on top of her. His lips find hers in an instant, meeting in a searing kiss, and she hooks one of her legs around him, pulling his hips flush against hers.

He moans into the kiss, and holy _fuck_ , that's hotter than it has any right to be.

She continues snogging him for a while longer, until she can't possibly wait any more. She breaks the kiss, looks at him, and plainly says, "Fuck me."

He's breathing heavily, so it takes him a moment to respond.

"Are you sure?" he whispers, his eyes boring into hers intensely, like he's trying to read her and can't quite make out the message.

She nods, because how could she be anything but? A lot of things in her life feel messy or uncertain or just plain wrong, but this… _this_ feels right. "I'm sure."

The last of their clothes come off soon after, and she lets herself get lost in it, get lost in him.

Shagging James is a fundamentally different experience than shagging Corner was; unlike her ex-boyfriend, James seems to care a great deal about making sure that the whole thing is just as good for her as it is for him.

That's the first time she feels it - the intensity of her feelings for him - but she brushes it off as a post-sex rush. She doesn't need to think about that just now, not when she's so perfectly tucked into James' side, legs intertwined with his as she watches his chest rise and fall with each breath.

She lifts her head off his chest to look at him, and is surprised to discover that his eyes are already on her, and he's frowning, like he's lost deep in thought.

Something about it unnerves her a little.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, suddenly filled with the need to break the silence.

He comes out of his head, but the frown doesn't fully disappear.

"I - " he falters, "you're beautiful."

She flushes at the compliment, but it's accompanied with a distinct sense of unease; somehow, she feels like that wasn't actually the truthful answer to her question.

* * *

James had been a frequent in the apothecary before this thing of theirs started, but he somehow finds a way to be there even more often now.

In particular, he always has a way of being there right when she's about to get off. And it works out quite well, because the end of her shift generally corresponds with a dead period in the customer flow anyways.

He's sitting on the counter, telling her a story he'd gotten from Peter the other day, and generally just making the process of counting tarantula legs a hell of a lot more enjoyable than it would be otherwise, when the store bell rings and a number of voices ring through the shop.

"Shit," Lily swears under her breath, because she'd been hoping the trend of dead silence at the end of her shifts would hold up.

"Do I need to make myself scarce?"

She wants to tell him no, but she knows it's probably not a good look for an employee to be entertaining guests during her shift. "Yeah, probably."

"Meet me behind the store when you're off?"

She just nods, and he hops off the counter, disappearing into one of the aisles immediately.

It's _very_ good that he disappears when he does, because the group comes to the counter just a few seconds later, and at least half of them are Hogwarts students.

Lily's not sure what level of secrecy she and James are going for - it's not something they've actually discussed at any point - but the student body has a proclivity for gossip, and she doesn't want any untrue bullshit, like that James had dumped Betty for her or anything like that, circulating.

Keeping things quiet feels much safer.

After she's gotten everyone the ingredients they need and rung everyone up, it's a solid ten minutes after her shift was meant to end. Her successor is still in the back room, so she shouts back to let him know that she's leaving, and quickly disappears out the back door.

The back of Slug and Jiggers is a narrow, dead-end alleyway; Lily doesn't normally linger around this exit for long, but today, there's a boy leaning up against the brick wall, waiting for her.

"This feels very… clandestine," James says, looking around. "I didn't realise the back of the apothecary was _quite_ so dark and secluded."

"And you're upset about that?"

James grins, a lopsided one that shows off the dimple in his right cheek, as he pushes himself off the wall and walks over to her. "Not at all - it means I get to do _this_."

And then he kisses her in a way that would be considered _very_ inappropriate anywhere less dark and secluded.

* * *

After that first night, she finds herself in James' bedroom more nights than not.

When she asks him why he's not afraid of getting caught with a girl in his bed, he explains that his parents' bedroom is on the opposite side of the house and Sirius always goes to bed early; when he asks her why she's not worried about her family finding her empty bed, she replies that they really don't seem to care where she is nowadays.

He tries to apologise for that, even though _he_ has nothing to apologise for, and she shuts him up by taking her shirt off.

But when she _does_ want to talk, he listens attentively, running his fingers through her hair as she lays on his lap, staring up at the ceiling confessing that she's terrified of the world that awaits her after Hogwarts.

He doesn't try to solve anything for her, doesn't try to tell her that her concerns aren't worth worrying about, but he's a sympathetic ear, and that's somehow everything she needs him to be.

Well, that, and a really good shag once she's decided she's done with words for the night.

* * *

"Are those Quidditch plays?"

She's wrapped up in James' arms, her back pressed against his chest, when her eyes land on a piece of parchment pinned to his wall that definitely wasn't there yesterday.

"Hm?" he says lazily, before noticing what she's looking at. "Yeah, they are."

"Already trying to think up ways to maintain Gryffindor's winning streak, I see."

"Seventh year wouldn't be complete without a Quidditch Cup," he reasons, and starts tracing circles over her hip.

Something about the mention of seventh year - of being back at Hogwarts - sends a twinge of sadness through her. She can't put a finger on why.

"I suppose it wouldn't," she agrees, and then decides to shut down the niggling feeling in the back of her mind by rolling over to face him, and kissing him.

The universe, however, has other ideas for distractions. In the form of a knock on the bedroom door and a, "Prongs?"

"Fuck," Lily says under her breath, untangling herself from James.

"Er, one sec," he says to Sirius, and then looks back at Lily, marginally panicked.

"I'm just going to… go under the bed," she tells him, because even if they aren't _trying_ to keep this a secret (which god, they really should talk about at some point), having Sirius find out by discovering her in James' bed wearing his shirt is… not ideal in any sense. "Maybe put a shirt on?"

"Oh. Yeah." He grabs a shirt off his dresser, and Lily only just sees him tug it on before she rolls herself under his bed."

"Okay, I'm decent - you can come in," James announces, and Lily hears the door swing open.

A body flops onto the bed, and Lily _really_ hopes her bra isn't still on the bedspread somewhere. "I know it's late, but I'm pretty sure I worked out the last thing for the motorbike - it's not a _Charm_ that it needs, it's _Transfiguration_."

"Oh, really?" James is either really good at pretending, or he's actually _really_ interested in Sirius's motorbike mechanics, even in the middle of the night.

Lily's actually more inclined to believe the latter; she's got a feeling he kind of wishes he'd come up with that sort of idea first, and she's sure he'll be trying to get Sirius to let him fly it whenever he can once the work is done.

Sirius launches into a monologue of advanced Transfiguration concepts that Lily more or less tunes out - mostly because it's theory that goes entirely over her head anyways. James and Sirius may be Transfiguration prodigies, but she's quite happy with her E average in her NEWT-level course.

She only tunes back in when she hears her name come up.

"You've been spending so much time hanging out with Evans you'd think she's your girlfriend now."

James coughs uncomfortably. "Yeah, well - " He trails off.

Lily wonders if Sirius is going to say anything about her, or if he's going to pick up on James' shiftiness. But instead, he goes a totally different direction.

"Speaking of girlfriends, did Betty reply to your letter?"

She feels like she shouldn't be listening to this, like she's intruding on a conversation she wants absolutely no part in. So instead she focuses on her surroundings, which aren't exactly exciting given that she's immersed in almost complete darkness, and all she can see are vague shapes illuminated by the tiny amount of light coming through the gap between the bedding and the floor.

There's a lump of fabric half a meter from her head, and she reaches out for it, making contact with something soft and cable-knit and more than a little dusty.

Almost as soon as she touches it, she's pretty sure she knows exactly what it is.

Betty wears a navy blue cardigan just like this all the time during the school year.

That same sad, bitter feeling from earlier comes back with a vengeance, and this time, Lily can put a finger on exactly why it's there. Because… she doesn't _want_ to go back to school, doesn't _want_ to go back to the status quo where James is with his girlfriend and he and Lily are just friends.

She wants August to last forever.

"Evans? You can come out now."

She jumps at that, at how much closer his voice is to her now. And even though he knows she's under there, she feels like she's been caught doing something she shouldn't be.

When she manages to roll herself out from underneath James' bed, she's still got the sweater in her hand. And sure enough, in the light, her suspicions are confirmed.

"I, er, found this under your bed," she tells James, holding it out to him, and watching as dust particles fall off of it and into the air. "Looks like it got stuck under there a while ago."

He looks at it like it's a foreign object, blinking a few times before he makes the connection she'd made immediately. "Oh, yeah… I think that's Betty's. I'll have to make sure to give that back to her."

"Yeah, I imagine she'll miss it once it gets colder," Lily replies, before walking over to where she'd left the clothes she'd come over in.

She's halfway into her shorts when James asks, "What are you doing?"

"I think I'm going to go home tonight," she tells him, trying to keep her voice devoid of any emotion. It's better to just shut it all down right now, because James has an uncanny ability to read her like a book sometimes and she just can't have that happening right now.

"Oh, okay," he answers, and his dejected tone almost makes her change her mind. "Are you sure?"

Her eyes land on Betty's sweater, still in his hand. "Yes, I'm sure."

* * *

James gives her space after that - which is, logically, probably good for her - but she can't help but miss him. She spends the next few days hoping that he'll show up in the Apothecary at the end of her shift, or fly up to her window in the middle of the night, and yet… nothing.

The distance should be good, and she really shouldn't be finding herself _wanting_ to run back into his arms again, knowing full well that she's developing feelings for him that extend far beyond the summer thing they've agreed to, but she's never proclaimed to be fully rational.

Marlene writes to see if Lily wants to meet up for dinner one day, and at first, Lily says yes, because spending time with someone who isn't James would probably be the healthy choice. And then, when the day comes and James still hasn't reached out to her, Lily writes Marlene to cancel and reschedule for another time, because _what if tonight's the night he finally shows and she's not there_?

He doesn't show.

* * *

Finally, she gives up on waiting, and finds herself sneaking into James' bedroom late at night, entirely unannounced.

He looks surprised to see her, the book he's reading still left open on his lap.

"You can, er, tell me to leave," Lily says, because she's well aware how pathetic she probably looks right now.

He cocks his head to the side. "Why would I do that?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. You haven't seemed very interested in seeing me the past couple of days."

James runs a hand through his hair, looking at her curiously. "I thought you wanted space. You left pretty quickly on Sunday, so I wasn't going to… I don't know, chase after you when you didn't want that."

"Oh." And then, "I didn't mean to make you think I was mad at you or anything, I just… yeah."

It's less eloquent than she would've wanted, but she doesn't know how to explain herself without telling the truth.

"Well, you're welcome to stay," he tells her, setting his book on the nightstand.

And so she does just that - climbs into bed next to him and curls up against him, their bodies molding together perfectly, just as they always do.

She ignores the voice in her head telling her that this is a bad, bad idea, and lets herself focus on how nice his fingers feel running through her hair and how she never sleeps quite as well as she does when she's in his bed.

* * *

The back alleyway of the Apothecary has practically become their _spot_ , which is just about the least romantic sort of thing possible, but there's some sort of thrill about it, so Lily doesn't mind too much.

They have James' bed when comfort is the move, but what happens against the rustic brick of Slug and Jiggers is all heated passion.

James' teeth nip at her neck, eliciting a gasp from her at the unexpected sensation. She'll almost certainly have a mark blooming there when he's finished with her, but somehow, she doesn't mind that. She likes being able to look at herself in the mirror and see where he's been.

He pulls back suddenly to look at her.

"What do you say we get away for the weekend?" he asks, his eyes boring deeply into hers in a way that feels incredibly intimate, even more so than their present position.

She's out of breath, so it takes her a moment to answer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my parents have a little cottage on the beach that they like to use sometimes - I'm sure I could get exclusive access to it for a weekend. It'd be nice, getting away from everything for a little bit."

And when he looks at her like that, she can't say no even if she wanted to.

So she doesn't.

And three days later, James is standing on her front porch, dressed in a short-sleeved beach shirt with the top two buttons undone, looking so damn attractive that she's already thinking about taking it off of him.

"How'd you manage to get away from your parents and Sirius for a whole weekend?" she asks, throwing her duffel bag of clothes over her shoulder and taking his hand so that he can Apparate them to their destination.

James ruffles his hair nervously. "I might have… told my parents about you."

She raises an eyebrow at that. She knows James' parents are pretty laid-back and tend to let him do whatever he wants, but even then, she wouldn't really expect them to be the type to endorse their son hooking up with some random girl while he and his girlfriend are on a break.

"And Sirius?"

"I actually _didn't_ tell him - he pieced it together on his own somehow and came up to me pissed off that I hadn't bothered to tell him about it." He laughs. "He was also _horrified_ when he found out you were hiding under my bed that one time he came into my room in the middle of the night."

"Does that mean we'll be spared any interruptions from here on out?"

"For the week or so we've got before we go back to Hogwarts, yeah, I think we're good."

A week. That's all she has left with him.

The hollow feeling in her stomach at that realisation is multiplied by the sensation of Apparition, but when she opens her eyes, she's staring out at a sandy beach and endless blue ocean.

They stop by the little beach house for just long enough to put their things down and for Lily to change into a bikini, and then they head out to the beach.

Lily conjures an umbrella to shield herself from the sun, and James stretches out on a towel next to her, still directly in the sun. She pulls out a book, and he just looks like he's going to take a nap.

The ocean serves as their soundtrack, the waves lapping at the shore rhythmically, interspersed with the wind blowing through the sea grass behind them and the occasional caw of seagulls. She inhales the salt air, and something about it is incredibly rejuvenating - like she's never needed anything more.

It's so comfortable, being with James like this, that it's easy to let herself forget that she's living on a countdown.

She looks over at him, laid out on his stomach as the sun beats down on him, and feels the strange urge to reach out to him, to drag her fingers along the outlines of the muscles on his back, to trace her name across his skin. To claim him as hers, if only for a fleeting moment.

She's going to need to put some space between them when they go back to Hogwarts. Not permanently, but just for long enough that the intense feelings she's developed for him - or maybe have been there all along, unnoticed - can subside.

"See something you like?"

His voice stirs her from her thoughts, and she realises that he's looking at her, that he's caught her in the act of staring at him.

"Just thinking about how funny it'll be when your entire back is sunburnt tonight," she replies.

He winks at her. "Guess that means I'll have to be on top then, doesn't it?"

* * *

He cooks for her again, and it's nowhere near as complicated as the last time since they're operating on a single run to the shop up the street, but it's incredible nonetheless. They have dinner out on the porch, and by the time the sun is setting over the horizon, they're sharing one chair, and James has his chin resting on her shoulder and his arms around her waist.

She'd stay here forever, she thinks, if given the choice.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she comments, looking out at the array of oranges and pinks and blues across the skyline.

He presses a kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder. "Yeah. You are."

And it's _so_ cheesy, but she melts nonetheless.

* * *

The next day is more of the same, the two of them all alone, wrapped up in some sort of bubble of domestic bliss that Lily knows can't last.

But it's fun, in the meantime, to pretend that it can.

(It's stupid too, to so blindly ignore reality, but she won't proclaim to be making particularly smart decisions right now.)

They go into the nearby town in the afternoon.

Their first stop is a kitschy little souvenir shop. James tries on a pair of novelty sunglasses that look so patently absurd on him that Lily can't help but giggle, and she has to actively talk him out of buying a pair of neon yellow swim trunks with the words 'Smack That' stitched across the bum.

Lily drags him into a candy shop after that, and loads them up with all the Muggle sweets he's never tried before and she deems absolutely necessary life experiences.

"This almost feels like a Hogsmeade trip," he comments, as they're walking back to the beach house.

It's certainly the closest she'll get to one with him.

"I suppose it does," she agrees. "Although Jaffa Cakes are _significantly_ better than Cauldron Cakes."

He laughs. "We'll see about that one."

(But he does eventually admit that she's right, after he's polished off three of them.)

They spend the evening tangled in bedsheets, and it's positively intoxicating. She's on a dizzying high with him, and there's not a thing in the world that matters outside of this breezy oceanside bedroom.

He falls asleep before she does, and she spends a long moment just studying him in the glow of the moonlight. He looks impossibly peaceful for someone who's constantly in motion when he's awake, practically the poster child for serenity right now - with the notable exception of his hair, which is even more chaotic than usual as a result of their activities.

He's still except for the steady rising and falling of his chest, so she's startled when he suddenly rolls over towards her, throwing an arm around her waist.

He mumbles something in his sleep that sounds a lot like 'I love you,' and Lily realises with a horrible sinking feeling that he probably thinks she's Betty in his dreams.

And just like that, the blissful bubble pops.

* * *

When she meets him behind the Apothecary a few days later, he's grinning wildly, like he's got some secret he's just dying to tell her.

"Wanna just go straight back to mine?"

"Er, sure."

As soon as they're in his bedroom, he rushes over to his desk.

"Remember how you got your Head Girl badge yesterday and I was complaining that my Hogwarts letter hadn't come yet?"

"... Yes?"

"Mine came this morning." He walks over to her, and there's something in his palm that she doesn't recognise until he's right in front of her. It's a pin, almost identical to the one she'd pulled out of her letter yesterday, except his is emblazoned with the words 'Head Boy.'

She should be able to put the pieces together, and yet -

"I'm really not positive what Dumbledore's logic was on this, because, I mean, _you_ were the _obvious_ choice for Head Girl, and… I didn't even know I was in the _running_ for Head Boy, but… here we are, I guess. And I know I'm probably not your first choice for a partner, but I'm going to do whatever I can to get up to speed and do the job well - but… just think of all the time we'll get to spend together now!"

He's rambling nervously, and when she looks up from the badge into his eyes, he's studying her closely, desperately searching for any sign of her reaction.

For her part, there's an undeniable sense of dread pooling in her stomach. The idea of spending all that time with him, all the while knowing full well that he's back with his girlfriend and that every part of this summer is nothing but a fleeting memory to him, makes her want to set her own badge on fire.

How the _fuck_ is she meant to get over him if she's having to spend all her time with him, being reminded every single day of all the little things about him that made her fall for him in the first place?

"That's great, James," she lies, and her voice comes out flatter than she'd wanted it to. It seems conjuring up the enthusiasm that just isn't there is harder than she thought it'd be.

His face falls ever-so-slightly - it wouldn't be perceptible to most people, but she's studied his features enough to recognise it. He's hurt.

She hurt him.

As if she needed another reason to absolutely hate herself right now.

She shuts it all down - her thoughts, his expression - by closing the space between them and kissing him.

Because if she can't give him the reaction he wants, and she can't give him the truth, at least she can give him this.

She doesn't normally feel _distant_ from him when they have sex - especially because their level of physical proximity would suggest the exact opposite - but she really can't tell where his head is today. Nothing is different physically, but… something feels off with him that she can't explain.

She wishes she could be what he wants her to be, the type of girl _she_ thought she could be when this whole thing started. Unattached, easily able to slip away from this into their old friendship, less of an emotional fucking disaster who can't put on a happy face for five fucking seconds.

Afterwards, she doesn't want to move, because the moment she does, she'll have to face the mess she's made of this all over again.

She pretends she's asleep, her face buried against his chest, but she keeps her arms wrapped around him tightly, because she knows she's going to lose him eventually but she _can't lose him right now_.

As she's laying there, the realisation hits her. Although maybe it's not so much a true _realisation_ , because she's known it for a while and hasn't wanted to admit it to herself until now, when she's truly got nothing left to lose.

She loves him. She fucking _loves_ him, and he's in love with another girl and not interested in her like that and she's gone and fallen head over heels in fucking _love_.

If it didn't make her feel like crying, she might actually laugh at the irony of it all.

* * *

The final days of August, every moment with him is spent wondering which one will be the last. Which kiss will be the one that lingers on her lips for weeks, reminding her of what she had and lost.

She wants to stand up on a cliffside somewhere and scream at the universe, beg it to give her a reason for doing this to her, for letting her fall so wildly and recklessly in love with someone who could never give it back to her the same way.

She hates anything not firmly grounded. She dropped Divination as soon as she could, she rolls her eyes every time the girls put way too much stock into what their _Witch Weekly_ horoscopes say, she's never bought into anything not fully guaranteed. Nothing except him.

His faithless love, the only hoax she's believed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this moment to make the disclaimer that there *is* in fact a happy ending to this fic!! there's just a lot of angst in the meantime oops


	3. september

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so much for summer love, and saying "us"  
> 'cause you weren't mine to lose

August slips away into a moment in time, and all of a sudden, it's the first of September.

At one point this summer, Lily had been counting down the days until summer ended and she got to go back to school. And then, all of a sudden, she started to dread the return to Hogwarts as she watched the number of days she had left with James get sipped away like a bottle of wine.

Now the bottle is empty, and the hangover is crushing.

After a fitful night of sleep, Lily both looks and feels like she's been hit by the Hogwarts Express as she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, attempting to put herself together as the perfect Head Girl she's meant to be.

She feels bloody pathetic, because really, James Potter should not have been able to fuck with her head and her heart this thoroughly. She thought she had more sense than that… and yet.

By some miracle, she makes herself presentable, and gets to Kings Cross a solid fifteen minutes before the train is set to depart.

There's something incredibly familiar and welcoming about Platform 9 ¾, and even though she's kind of dreading this return, she can't help but feel the briefest moment of joy at the sight of the train.

She scans over the platform, and naturally, her eyes are immediately drawn to the tall boy with dark messy hair and glasses. Whether she wants it to be there or not, there's something about him that will always draw her to him.

And the moment she sees him, she wishes she didn't.

Because he's with Betty, and they're talking, and James is handing her cardigan to her, the one Lily had found under his bed.

She laughs, he smiles, and Lily feels like she's going to be sick.

And then Betty goes on her tiptoes to press a kiss to James' cheek, and Lily has to avert her eyes, feeling tears well up behind her eyelids that she absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, let fall.

She's reminded herself how utterly stupid she is so many times already, but now seems like a good time to remind herself of it again. To remind herself that it was _so_ incredibly foolish to let herself fall for someone who would never feel the same, who _could_ neverfeel the same.

Because all along, he had this to go back to. He had her.

* * *

The Prefects' meeting goes about as smoothly as it possibly could have, considering there are significant complaints from the Slytherins (and hell, even a few non-Slytherins) about how the Head Girl and Boy are a Muggleborn and a non-Prefect, respectively.

She ducks out of the compartment as soon as the meeting ends, afraid that if she lingers too long she'll end up in there alone with James, and that's the _last_ thing she wants right now.

She'll get over him eventually - she _has to_ \- but right now, the wound is too fresh.

* * *

As soon as Lily's taken the first years to their dormitory and has made her way to the seventh year girls' one, Marlene pounces, taking a seat on Lily's bed.

"What's going on between you and James?"

She plays dumb. "What do you mean?"

"You literally wouldn't even look at him at dinner," her friend replies. "You guys seemed pretty friendly at his party this summer, so did something happen between now and then?"

What _didn't_ happen between now and then would probably be the better question.

But honestly? She's terrified of telling Marlene about what happened with James this summer. Because right now, when no one else in her life knows about it, it's easier to distance herself from it. If she says the words aloud, they become… more real, somehow.

She decides to opt for a watered-down version of the truth; Marlene's picked up on enough that Lily won't be able to completely evade her question, but she'll keep the most central details to herself.

"I… kind of realised I might have developed feelings for him," she admits. "And that's obviously not great for… a lot of reasons."

Marlene's eyes go wide. " _Oh_."

Lily bites back a laugh, because if she's surprised at _that_ , the full extent of the truth would probably put her in the Hospital Wing.

"And I think some distance from him is probably the only way I'm going to get over that," she finishes. "Hence… I'm avoiding him for a little bit."

"And is that what you want? To get over it?"

Lily's bitter laugh actually breaks through this time, because _god, no_. "I don't really have a choice, do I? He's got a girlfriend - even if I _wanted_ to try to pursue him, I'm not going to try to steal someone's boyfriend."

"I don't know about that," Marlene says, looking prensive. "I can't remember where I heard it, but I feel like someone told me he and Betty broke up this summer."

Lily shakes her head. "They were on a break - they didn't _break_ _up_."

"Oh," Marlene replies. "Well, if you need me to run interference to get away from him at any point, just let me know."

And despite her sadness, Lily finds herself smiling at her best friend. She's lucky to have Marlene.

* * *

Being back at Hogwarts is like coming home - over the past six years, this place really has become more a home to her than the house she grew up in. The professors waste no time in piling work on them and lecturing them about the importance of doing well on their NEWTs, which most of her classmates gripe about, but she doesn't mind much, if only because it gives her plenty of ways to keep herself occupied.

Within a few days, she becomes something of an expert in avoiding James - ducking out of classrooms as soon as the lesson ends, holing up in corners of the library, and sitting as far away from him as she can at mealtimes.

Of course, he insists on making it as difficult as possible. He's constantly trying to talk to her about something or another. And admittedly, yeah, she _does_ need to review and post the rounds schedule, and show him how to document point deductions, and a few other relevant Head things, but she never lets those conversations last longer than they absolutely need to.

She edits his draft of the rounds schedule before posting it, making sure to switch it around so that she's never paired with him.

She's just gotten the schedule posted in the Prefects' Lounge and is heading to the library, her nose in a Charms textbook, when she full-on collides with someone in the hallway.

"Oh!" She looks up to see who she's just walked into, and her heart drops into her stomach when she sees Betty, wearing that same navy blue cardigan Lily had found under James' bed a few weeks ago. "Hi."

"Hi Lily," the blonde says, smiling. "Sorry for walking into you - I wasn't looking where I was going."

Lily gestures to the open book in her hands. "Same."

"But hey, this is convenient - have you seen James recently? I figure you're more likely to know where he is than I am."

"Er, no, I haven't," she stammers out as a response.

What does she _mean_ by that, that Lily's somehow more likely to know where James is than she is? If anything, the one who's dating the bloke would be the more likely one to know where he is.

"Bummer," Betty replies. "I need him to walk me through McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson - honestly, he's the only person who can make me understand that blasted subject."

Lily thinks back to the number of times James has explained Transfiguration concepts to her in the past; Betty's right, in that he's got an uncanny ability of making a complicated subject seem so much simpler and straightforward. She feels an uninvited rush of jealousy at the mental image of James and Betty together, and she has to push it deep down to manage a level response.

"Well… good luck finding him."

"I'll need it." Betty grins. "Oh, and congratulations on getting Head Girl - I really couldn't think of anyone more deserving."

Even when Lily _wants_ to hate her, she can't. She's too damn nice.

* * *

Sometimes doing rounds on her own is nice; normally, the Prefects go off in pairs, but today, she's the only one on the schedule.

At one point, James was on it too, but this is one of the nights she'd switched around. None of the other prefects were available, but she'd rather do things solo than have to spend hours walking the halls with him.

Yes, being alone is good.

It's a completely uneventful evening - other than warning a few third-year Hufflepuffs to get back to their common room before curfew, she doesn't run into a single source of trouble.

Well, until she gets to the fourth floor.

"Evans!"

That voice, and the person it belongs to, is the biggest source of trouble there is.

She decides to pretend like she hasn't heard him, and keeps on walking.

"Lily!" he yells, more desperately this time.

The use of her first name - something that so rarely comes out of his mouth - makes her stop in her tracks, and she curses her body's immediate reaction.

It's probably too late to just full-on make a run for it down the corridor, and realistically she can't _avoid_ her co-Head forever.

"What are you doing here?" she asks as he catches up to her. "You're not scheduled for rounds tonight."

Something close to a laugh but not quite one escapes his lips. "Actually, at one point, I was. And then you changed it."

"I did," she replies simply, starting to walk down the corridor again.

James falls into step with her easily, and she pointedly avoids looking at him. "I told myself that I wouldn't make assumptions about why you switched the rounds schedule, but… I think it's because of me."

It takes more effort than it should to keep her voice level in her reply. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugs, sticking his hands into the pockets of his robes. "I dunno, I just feel like you've been avoiding me since term started, and _then_ , the _one_ time we're scheduled to do rounds together this month, you switched it around."

"I haven't been avoiding you," she protests, even though that's a bold-faced lie. She's literally told Marlene the opposite.

James knows it's a lie too. "You've barely talked to me since we got back to school. I feel like I've done something wrong, but… I don't know what."

"You haven't done anything wrong," she answers, and at least that one's the truth this time.

It's not that he's done something wrong - he's done _nothing_ wrong, and _that's_ the whole fucking problem of it all.

"Then what the fuck is going on? I didn't think agreeing to your idea of a summer fling meant we'd never talk again afterwards."

_Yeah, well, I didn't think my idea of a summer fling meant falling in love with you,_ she thinks bitterly to herself.

"We're talking right now," she replies quietly, as if that's somehow a sufficient defense to his accusations.

"Yeah, and I practically had to corner you for it to happen, because every time you see me you take off running in the opposite direction. And I just want to know what happened - you're one of my best friends, and I don't want to lose that."

"And that's exactly the problem," she says, before realising she's just let slip entirely too much.

She starts to walk faster to get away from him, but fails to consider that his legs are much longer than hers and it's no effort at all for him to catch up with her, grabbing onto her arm so that she's forced to stop and face him.

"What does that mean?"

His eyes are wide and innocent behind his glasses, which are sitting ever-so-slightly askew on his face, as they're inclined to do when he's been running his hands through his hair too much.

And somehow, that's the thing that sends her over the edge, shattering the last bits of her composure in one go.

She laughs, and the sound is somehow both loud and hollow. " _God,_ James, look at me! Look at this idiotic fool that you made me! I can't stop fucking thinking about you and this whole summer even though I _know_ that this whole thing meant more to me than it did to you! I'm heartbroken by someone who was never mine to lose!"

She expects James to react, to say or do anything or maybe just laugh in her face at how pathetic she is, but the only change in him comes from the small crease that appears between his eyebrows.

When he speaks, it's soft and low. "What do you mean 'this meant more to me than it did to you'?"

She looks up at the ceiling, and she's not sure if she's praying for something to put her out of her misery or if she's just trying to avoid looking at James anymore. "Are you really going to make me say it out loud?"

"Unfortunately, Legilimency is not a talent I possess, so yes."

She looks back at him. The universe has apparently decided not to listen to any of her pleas, so she might as well just look him in the eyes while she bears her heart to him.

"I fancy you. And not just in the lighthearted, casual-summer-thing-that-I-can-leave-behind type of way. I thought it was that, but… apparently not. And I wasn't going to tell you because I know you're with Betty and I don't want to get in the way of that or make you feel bad for not breaking up with your girlfriend, but I just… _fuck_ , this is a lot harder than I thought it'd be."

She lets her eyes fall to the floor, staring at his feet instead of his face, her initial rush of bravery suddenly replaced by terror at how he'll respond.

She watches as those feet take two steps forward, so that they're right in front of hers, and then, there's a hand under her chin delicately tilting her head up to look at him again. There's a gentleness in his expression that she wasn't expecting. "Evans, I told Betty that our break needed to be a break-up the first week of August. I'd fallen too hard for somebody else - it wasn't fair to act like I'd be able to go back to her after summer ended at that point."

She blinks, rapidly trying to process this new information. She'd shut down the rumour as soon as Marlene had brought it up, thinking _she_ knew the full truth, but… maybe not. "You had?"

"Betty and I were never all that serious," he explains with a shrug. "We liked each other, sure, and we had fun together, but we both knew that we weren't _'it'_ for each other."

Now that, Lily thinks, is a lie. She _knows_ it's a lie. "But you were in love with her."

He cocks his head at her. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"The night of the party - we were playing never have I ever, and you put a finger down." She feels weird saying that out loud, admitting that she'd paid that much attention to him during that game and that it's stayed in her mind this long.

It takes him a moment to make sense of what she's just said, and when he does, he shakes his head, laughing under his breath. "There's only one person I've ever been in love with, and it's not Betty."

"Then who - "

James just smiles, his thumb trailing along her jaw. "You, Evans. It's only ever been you."

He's…

She realises, suddenly, that she's gotten things all wrong.

"But I didn't think you wanted anything serious - I mean, you literally couldn't get away from me fast enough after overhearing Sirius call you my girlfriend. And I told myself I was going to be fine with that and hope that somehow I could maybe change your mind along the way."

"That was… not why I ran away at all. That was the moment I realised you had maybe changed my mind a little _too_ well."

His free hand flies up to his hair. "Honestly, I thought I'd failed at that miserably."

"Well, you didn't," she tells him.

He smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It was kind of hard to know that though when I told you I got Head Boy and you immediately looked like you couldn't imagine a worse fate."

"I… I was thinking about how hard it was going to be to get over you if I had to see you every day," she explains, and she knows the truth won't fully make up for the hurt, but hopefully it'll help him understand _why_.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to. Get over me, that is. Actually, I'd really, really prefer if you didn't."

She backtracks, because she needs to make sure she's actually hearing all of this right. "So you broke up with Betty over a month ago, because you liked me, but you didn't want to push anything on me because you thought I didn't feel the same way?"

He nods. "And it turns out you actually kind of did, and my attempts at not pushing you came off like I didn't feel the same way about _you_."

"So we both…?"

His face breaks out into a grin. "We're both idiots, yeah."

She can't help it when a laugh bubbles up, because _fuck_ , it's just hit her that she is, for perhaps the first time all summer, unqualifiedly and unquestionably _happy_. There's nothing nagging at the back of her mind in the moments of bliss, no lingering threat of future heartbreak. Just this boy, who loves her just as much as she loves him.

So she does the only thing she can think of - she throws her arms around his neck and pulls his lips down to her own.

It's a clumsy kiss, because neither of them can stop smiling for all that long, but she feels wave after wave of affection course through her the longer they stay like that.

"You were wrong, earlier, you know," he says when they break apart and he rests his forehead against hers. "I _am_ yours to lose."

"What if I don't want to lose you?" she asks, staring straight into his eyes, which are positively _sparkling_.

"Then I'm yours to keep. However you want me, I'm yours."

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr!](http://downn-in-flames.tumblr.com/)


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